


arrangements

by icemakestars



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/F, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 07:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21454486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemakestars/pseuds/icemakestars
Summary: Cana works in her late mother's flower shop. Lucy knows more about plants than Cana ever has.
Relationships: Cana Alberona/Lucy Heartfilia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Fairy Tail LGBTales, Fairy Tail Rarepairs





	arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... listen. I wrote this fic in like 2016. But I deleted the file and never posted it on here and I just assumed I'd either lost it forever or that I'd imagined writing it, but then I found it on tumblr and... it isn't good. Very much isn't good. I've done some small adjustments but i cant be bothered to re-write it so i apologise for how meh this is. 
> 
> anyways follow my tumblr and insta
> 
> tumblr - gaymirajane  
insta - mozzalong

“Ugh…” Cana leaned against the counter, stretching herself out like a cat and yawning into her arms. It was a slow day, like Tuesdays usually were, and she was struggling to find tasks to occupy herself with. There were only so many times you could display and re-display tulips, and Cana felt as though she had reached her limit.

It was warm; the shop had no air-conditioning and it was the middle of July. Cana cursed, wondering why he father had kept the shop in the first place; neither of them were interested in flowers. That had always been her mother's thing. She dragged out the pocket fan kept in one of the old, worn drawers. She pressed it on, and then let her gaze fall onto the picture of her mother which they hung over the counter in remembrance. Cana she stared at it thoughtfully, longingly, reminiscing on the passion which Cornelia - her mother - had put into the flower shop before she had died.

The shop wasn’t that bad, Cana decided. She could handle rude customers and rogue flowers in the memory of her mother, and for the weighty wage her father was bribing her with, it all became more than worthwhile. She glanced around to check that the area was clear before taking a sip from the flask she hid in a flower pot, back turned away from the entrance and the CCTV, just in case her father watched the tapes back. At the sound of the bell, Cana turned around again, stuffing the bottle behind her back and then into the soil, offering her friendliest smile to the possible customer and switching the small fan off.

“Good afternoon!” The girl chirped happily, her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders as she moved towards the counter. She was beautiful; her eyes wide and curious as they skimmed over the flowers on display, gaze flitting gently over to Cana. 

“Hello, can I help you with anything?” Cana asked, already feeling heat creep up the back of her neck. A delayed reaction from the liquor she kept hidden, or the way the customer’s eyes kept on meeting herself; either way, Cana was feeling flushed. Usually the customers of the shop were elderly women or young children; it was rare to see someone this stunning. Some days, Cana really loved her job.

“I need flowers for my mother.” She says, a touch of something different in her eyes, something that Cana recognised, saw it reflected in her own eyes every time she looked in the mirror on days like this.

“Okay, I’m sure we can do that… What’s the occasion? Her birthday?” Cana was already planning arrangements in her head, colours and codes and styles.

“It’s her… anniversary.” The girl eludes, gaze fixing on a spot just underneath Cana’s chin, teeth worrying her bottom lip. 

Cana tilts her head and folds her arms, weight resting on one heel as she waits for an explanation, because she doesn’t understand. But then she does, the truth quick and painful in her chest, and Cana feels a familiar kind of sadness flip her stomach. 

“It is my mother’s anniversary this month, as well.” She whispers, hand rubbing on the back of her neck.

A smile passes between them, kind and understanding and fleeting, replaced with ardent, bitter emotions that neither girl seemed prepared to express. The customer coughed and extends her hand in offering.

“Lucy.” She nods in affirmation. Cana takes the hand hesitantly, but replies nonetheless. 

“I’m Cana. Let’s see if we can do you the nicest bouquet of flowers for your mother.” When their fingers brush, Cana feels it – not electricity, but warmth, something solid and tangible and exhilarating – and shakes with it, unsure as to what to do next, or if Lucy even felt it as well. 

They talk about flowers, discussing types and colours and sizes. Cana produces their new selection of carnations, and Lucy’s features brighten. Excitedly, she turns to Cana,

“Do you know the meaning of these flowers?” 

Cana stares dumbly, mouth gaping. She had been playing and working in this shop since before she could walk, and never had she heard someone ask about the meaning behind the flowers. Of course, Cana was vaguely aware of the Victorian flower language, and various symbolic meanings relative to different countries, but it was not something that she knew much about. 

“Ahh, I’m afraid I don’t.” She shrugs awkwardly, but Lucy simply laughs.

“In Victorian times, carnations were used to answer questions. In Japan they are a symbol of love, in America they are the official flower for mother’s day.” Lucy explains breathlessly.

Cana’s eyebrow arches.

“You sure do know an awful lot about flowers.” Her tone is teasing, but still Lucy’s face flushes.

“Well, it was something that really interested my mother. Before she died, she used to do flower arrangements as a hobby. She left all of her books to me, but she had annotated and drawn all over them. It’ll sound silly, but I read them to feel closer to her.” 

Cana places her hand on Lucy’s arm, thumb rubbing comfort over the crease of her elbow.

“That doesn’t sound silly at all. That’s why I still work at this shop, to feel close to mum. Gildarts – my old man – could easily do it by himself, but I wouldn’t want him to. It’s peaceful here, anyway, and it’s what mum would have wanted.” 

Lucy hums in agreement, leaning in to the delicate touch. Silence breaks out, and the two girls stare at each other a minute before Lucy breaks away, thumbing a single rose petal which had fallen from the flower. 

“When will the bouquet be finished by?” 

“I’ll have it done this afternoon.” 

The rhythm falters as Lucy eyes Cana incredulously. 

“That only gives you a few hours to do it!” She takes a step forward, but Cana doesn’t flinch.

“There’s hardly any other work, and the order is large, but simple enough.” She grins lopsidedly, rubbing the back of her neck with a sweaty, calloused palm. “Anyway, this is important, right? If it’s for your mum, it should be done as quickly as possible.” 

Lucy’s expression falls into one of quiet contentment and gratitude, and she throws her arms around Cana’s shocked, stiff shoulders. Into her ear, she whispers,

“I’ll come back around five.” 

“We don’t close until six-thirty, so you’d better come back then.” Cana frowns, plotting how she will complete this monumental task in such a short space of time. 

“If I come early, I’ll get to spend some more time with you though, right?” Lucy says shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Cana feels hot again.

“Right.” She bites her cheek in order to keep from smiling.

Stretching herself out, Lucy checks her phone before starting to turn away.

“I’d best be going; there are small admin jobs I need to do in town first.” She rolls her eyes, and Cana laughs.

“I’ll see you later then.” Cana muses, fingers already searching the desk for her phone and her flask.

Lucy walks to the door and then pauses, turning to offer one last, sweet smile at Cana.

“Yes, you definitely will.”


End file.
